Blood and Sand
by CarGarZar
Summary: This is what happens when you fall through a strange portal in Dragon Tooth Crater.


A/N: This is a story based on Skyrim and 300. Vilja is a real follower in-game and everything shown here actually happened in game. I do not own Skyrim or the Spartans.

* * *

Blood and Sand

"Hurry up, will you." Beowulf said, suddenly stopping to watch what she was doing.

He was talking to Vilja, his follower and friend for many years.

"Maybe if we just talk to someone, they'll give us something to do." Vilja groaned, searching the barren landscape for other people to converse with.

"Do you see anyone around here?" The armored Dragon-born replied and then started walking ahead of her.

Vilja hastily followed him after noticing his departure and noticed a weird glimmer of light on top of a large hill.

"What is that bright circle on the hill?" Vilja pointed towards the bright circular luminescence in the dark sky.

They both walked towards it, located in the Dragon Tooth Crater. Beowulf walked closer and closer until he was directly facing it. He stuck his armored hand through the light, and an unknown force seemed to suck him into another world.

"HEY! Wait for me!" Vilja sprinted towards the portal and disappeared.

* * *

The Dragon-born landed face first in the sand after traveling through the portal. Vilja materialized from above and plopped right on top of him, burying him into the sand.

"Sorry!" The young woman jumped off.

"Ugh!" He spat out some sand through his iron horned helmet.

She helped him up, her face turning into a shade of red.

"I've been through many portals before, but this one has got to be the craziest." He said, patting his sandy armor and signaling Vilja to follow.

They walked across the empty battlefield, also known as Thermopylae. The sun's intense rays of light cooked the adventurers in their concealed armor, making them perspire. They dragged themselves onward, looking for a source of water and a patch of shade. They soon spotted some large mountains and sat down where they could find shade.

The landscape was quiet and empty, almost desert-like. There was no water for miles and Beowulf could only see sand and sand and more sand.

"What have we gotten ourselves into this time?" Vilja cried. The dragon-born stood up and moved on, Vilja reluctantly left the comfort of the shade and followed him.

As they walked further into the landscape, a few Persian soldiers who were hiding behind some boulders spotted the two.

"Who are you and what business do you have here?" The commander yelled.

"Nothing, we went through this weird portal and now we're stuck!" Vilja exclaimed.

"Lies, the enemy sent you here to spy on us! Men, off with their heads!" The commander roared.

It was a battle of five against two. Four of the Persian mercenaries wore unkempt brown robes and worn wooden shields, but they still put up a fight. The commander himself wore scaled armor and was armed with a spear and Spara (Large rectangular shield).

Vilja unsheathed her Nordic Great sword, staring at the mercenaries and prepared for bloodshed.

Beowulf unsheathed his longsword, which burned any surface it touched. He also unmounted his banded iron shield and closely watched the mercenaries.

There was dead silence. The Persians glared at the pair, their eyes full of fury. The silence was broken when the commander leaped towards the Dragon-born. He dragged his spear across the air and missed his target's head by mere centimeters.

Vilja fought the four mercenaries on her own. A swing of her great sword cut two of them in half. The other two were agile and dodged her sword as they went for her exposed head. She quickly raised her sword to parry the blows that she received. She kicked the sand below her feet, the wind blowing it even further into their eyes. As the two were furiously wiping their stinging eyes, Vilja gave one final swing and chopped the remaining two in half, leaving a large pool of blood on the ground. Tired, she sat down and watched Beowulf, knowing that he never loses a fight.

Beowulf fought defensively, he made sure that every strike made towards him was met by his shield. The commander tried stabbing everywhere, the head, the stomach, the legs, but every strike was blocked effortlessly.

"Stop blocking so I can stab you!" The commander screamed.

In a rage, he raised his arm to go for an overhead strike. Beowulf used this opportunity and swiftly stabbed the man in the side with his sword.

The commander fell, burning and drowning in his own blood. Vilja grinned and stood up.

"That was fun, let's see if they have anything good on them." Vilja suggested.

The bloodstained warrior nodded. The two crouched and searched several pockets and bags. Vilja picked up a couple of gold pieces and Beowulf found a large water pouch. Vilja's eyes widened when she saw this, and quickly grabbed the pouch and drank it. The Dragon-born waited until she was content, and drank what was remaining of the pouch. They left the bodies there and moved forward.

After walking for a couple minutes in the burning desert heat, Vilja spotted many huts and lean-tos on her side.

"Look, there some sort of camp over there!" Vilja pointed to her right.

"And there's a stone sanctuary there." Beowulf pointed to the left.

There were about two or three soldiers in each lodge. The sanctuary housed their all-powerful eminence, Xerxes. He had black skin and large gold rings around his figure. He was lanky and slender, about seven or eight feet tall. A large staff was strapped on his back. It was crafted from a scarce crystal known as Aetherium.

Within the camp, an archer with keen eyes spotted the two and blew his horn, signaling his men to rush forward. Hundreds of them started running towards the two.

"What's happening, how did they know we were here?" Vilja panicked.

"Take cover, we can lure them here and bring them down one by one." He replied.

With the Persian's attention focused on the two adventurers, the 300 Spartans found an opportunity to strike from behind. They rushed forward from behind the Persian encampment. The few hundreds who remained noticed the Spartans, but they were unprepared for battle.

A full-scale war had begun. Spartans everywhere, slicing through the camp. King Leonidas himself, throwing one spear and impaling five soldiers at once.

Meanwhile, Beowulf and Vilja were struggling against the multitude of soldiers. When all hope was lost, he bellowed the words: "Strun Bah, Qo!" His strong voice vibrated throughout the landscape.

Shadowy, black storm clouds materialized from above, blocking out the radiant sun. The wind was like a Zephyr and the rain like a hailstone. Lighting struck the soldiers over and over again. The Persians were all dead before he even knew it.

Xerxes fled from this throne, he had a backup plan and found that this was a good opportunity to use it.

The battle between the Spartans and Persians went on. Beowulf and Vilja decided to join in.

"Bet I can kill more than you!" Vilja teased.

"You'll lose if you keep talking!" He replied while stabbing one in the head. "That's one!"

The two fought bravely together, their backs facing each other and taking on anyone who dared to fight.

The last of the Persians ran away and the landscape was filled with silence.

Beowulf sheathed his sword and lowered his bloody shield. "I've slain about seventy one of them." He commented.

Vilja mounted her great sword on her back. "Shoot! I only got seventy!" She exclaimed.

The battle was finally won; the Spartans rested on the floor and dropped their weapons. The Spartan king Leonidas confronted the two foreigners.

* * *

His shadowy eyes surveyed the bloody warriors. "Hello foreigners, I am King Leonidas. What are your names?"

"I'm Vilja, and this is Beowulf."

"I have never heard of names like those before. Where are you two from?"

Vilja awkwardly stared at Beowulf and turned away. The Dragon-born sighed; "Well… this might sound crazy, but I came back from the future, from a land called Skyrim."

He looked confused. "Interesting, I thought things like time traveling were a myth."

"In Skyrim anything can happen." Beowulf chuckled.

"So, what is Skyrim like?" He asked.

"Skyrim is-"

"Skyrim is a vast region set in the northern part of Tamriel. It is the home of the Nords, large and hardy men and women who have a strong resistance to frost. It's a wealthy and powerful province, but lots of conflict all around." Vilja interjected.

The Spartan laughed. "Wow, you sure do read your books, lady."

"It's Vilja, and yes, I do read books a lot, although my father says it's bad for your eyes." She said.

They laughed and Leonidas lead the two back into his headquarters. The sun was falling, the horizon was orange, and shadows grew taller and darker. The Spartans were lying down, chatting, and falling asleep.

The two of them left the camp to explore the rest of Thermopylae. They retraced their steps after they grew tired of seeing more sand and said their goodbyes to the Spartans. They looked around for the portal from which they came from.

"That was entertaining." Vilja said. She stepped through the portal.

"Yes, it was." The Dragon-born followed her.


End file.
